


Admit One

by omobot



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, background hilda & marianne, cheesy af, date swap, fake double date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omobot/pseuds/omobot
Summary: Sylvain has invited Marianne to the amusement park, the ideal place to practice her smile. Hilda is skeptical, and Claude finds himself dragged along on an impromptu double date.
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 10
Kudos: 84





	Admit One

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this months ago for stress relief, but life took over anyway as life does. Anyway it's finally finished, and it's pretty much all sugar and no substance, because sometimes a binch just doesn't wanna deal with Sylvain's Depression. >:U
> 
> Skip the notes at the end if you don't wanna harsh the cheesy vibes!!
> 
> Also I typed out about 3k of this on my phone yesterday, and while I did some editing this morning I apologize if there are any glaring errors.

"I'll pay for everything _and_ treat you to dinner afterwards. Anywhere you want. — _Oh!_ You've been eyeing that new buffet off-campus, haven't you?"

Hilda had clasped her hands most beseechingly and whined out an extended _pleeease_ , the hem of her skirt swishing about her legs as she sashayed in place. The kind of tactic Claude was certain she employed with Holst on a weekly basis, and got away with. But he wasn't above two free meals and an unhealthy amount of carnival food, and it went without saying he wasn't gonna let their sweet and softspoken Marianne venture off with a rumored skirtchaser either.

"Marianne says they're meeting up at eleven at ticketing. Don't be late, m'kay?" Hilda had even texted him a calendar invite—a serious gesture considering she didn't let anyone know she actually kept any sort of schedule at all.

"What's so bad about this guy?" Claude had ventured, though he'd of course heard all the choice snippets of campus gossip. (There just hadn't been much reason to pay any mind to the talk or to the subject. Fulfilling basic human needs in the trenches of academia provided enough distraction.)

Hilda's expression had scrunched up a little, like she'd bitten into a cookie expecting chocolate chips and tasted raisins instead. "He's... I dunno. He doesn't seem _as_ bad as rumors say, but he's not exactly sincere, either."

"That's a shockingly familiar assessment," Claude had cut in amicably.

"You know what I mean!" Hilda's voice had transposed itself to a higher register in her exasperation, expression animated. "He talks _entirely_ in pickup lines. If you only heard him open his mouth you'd also think twice!"

"Oh I dunno, maybe I should get some pointers," Claude had said with a shrug, not getting what her fuss was about. "I'm supposed to convince 'em I'm your date, right? Do I call you 'babe' from now on?" He had puckered up jokingly in her direction, while staying very carefully fixed in his spot, a safe distance away from her reach.

She had leaned in anyway to punch him in the arm with a half-giggle, half-scowl.

\---

"What happened to your arm?" is the first thing Sylvain asks Claude, after the four of them acquire their wristbands and enter the park. The redhead doesn't seem remotely upset his plans have been hijacked by another couple, offering him an easy, albeit noncommittal smile.

Claude laughs it off as an incident between friends—they're too far along in the summer to be wearing long-sleeves, and his yellow tee does nothing to cover the bruise blooming above his elbow, courtesy of Hilda's "light" jab.

Meanwhile, the culprit in question immediately takes the opportunity to link arms with Marianne and steer her towards a nearby booth of animal ears and decorative accessories, abandoning Claude to make more smalltalk.

Sylvain comments vaguely on the weather, and Claude supplies something about breakfast, and it's all pointless but surprisingly easy. At least, Hilda doesn't keep them waiting long, the girls returning with a handful of headbands sporting oversized bows, to be worn by each member of their little party.

"It'll look super cute in pictures! And it's easier to spot each other this way if we get lost in a crowd," Hilda says as she passes out the hair pieces.

"Heh, cute," Sylvain says with a grin, popping on the bow without an ounce of reservation. He turns to Claude as Hilda helps adjust Marianne's headband over her braid. "How do I look?"

"Almost as charming as I do," Claude replies without missing a beat, crowning himself in mint green.

Sylvain just laughs and reaches over to help nudge the accessory on center, before proceeding to shower the girls with compliments. As soon as his back is turned, Claude instinctively fusses with it some more.

\---

It's actually Claude's first time at a theme park. Almyra hadn't been lacking by any means; he'd just never found the chance to visit one before or after his move to Fódlan. Though he's only really here as backup, he can't help but be intrigued by the soaring screams from each coaster they approach, the endless array of blinking lights, and the smell of fried dough and over-buttered popcorn.

Hilda sticks to his side, facetiously close, while Sylvain strolls calmly alongside Marianne with his hands fixed in his pockets. Claude had figured Hilda would attach herself to _Sylvain_ , and skillfully maneuver him the way she did most boys, while leaving Claude to chaperone Marianne. He really doesn't give her enough credit, he thinks, after the bait-and-switch occurs some fifteen minutes later.

\---

"Hilda's not answering her phone," Claude lies, though the sigh he gives is very sincere as he furtively reads the new text on his screen.

Don't worry, I'm with Marianne. You keep Sylvain distracted! xoxo

"Maybe they went to use the restroom? Girl stuff, you know," Sylvain says, hunching over to peer at the selection of ice cream at one of the food stalls.

"Yeah," Claude says absently, joining him to likewise peruse the flavors. He asks for coffee and pistachio, while Sylvain gets dark chocolate and black cherry. Sylvain, who's standing closest to the cashier, pays for both orders despite Claude's mild protest.

They eat together on one of the benches, Claude holding his phone in his other hand, pretending to be waiting for contact from Hilda while actually delving into an article on artificial intelligence. (Marianne had forgotten to charge her phone the previous night, they'd discovered earlier, when Hilda had insisted on teaching her the art of the selfie.)

He must be poor company, because Sylvain finally leans over, effectively getting his attention by taking a big bite out of his waffle cone, which is admittedly beginning to drip in his absentmindedness. Claude starts with an incredulous snort.

"Hey!"

"What? I paid for it," Sylvain says with a crooked grin. "So, no word yet?"

Claude shakes his, tucking his phone away back into his pocket so he can better attend to the rest of his ice cream. He tries really hard to ignore the fact that Sylvain's mouth has been on it, and that he's thinking of Sylvain's mouth at all.

"Wanna check out the games while we wait?" Claude asks eventually, if only because he knows they'll be wasting the entire afternoon otherwise. He does feel a little bad that Sylvain is stuck here, none the wiser while someone else has made off with his date.

"Good idea. Maybe we can surprise them with some cheesy prizes."

Claude isn't sure whether Sylvain is being genuinely considerate, or genuinely out to impress the girls, and now he feels _double guilty_ for questioning his motives.

\---

It turns out, Sylvain just really enjoys playing. They cackle their way through a chaotic round of whack-a-mole and an even worse showing of ring toss, before somewhat redeeming themselves with skeeball. Claude makes a _killing_ sniping down tin cans, and when he offers Sylvain a turn the redhead just shakes his head and hands the booth keeper another five.

"Think this is enough?" Claude grins as they walk away from the stall with an enormous stuffed pony (the beloved childhood classic, Sir Dorte, which Sylvain is tasked with carrying), two pairs of heart-shaped sunglasses (Claude nestles one of them against his headband, as he's already wearing wayfarers, while Sylvain swaps out his aviators entirely), a set of beaded hemp bracelets for the group (affixed to their wrists for safe-keeping), and an obnoxiously bright t-shirt Claude had picked out for Hilda.

"Almost," Sylvain winks, nodding over to the dunk tank at the end of the lot.

"Are you volunteering as tribute?" Claude says, cocking a brow.

"Why not? It's stupid hot out. And besides, you've got a change of clothes."

Claude snickers, eyeing the neon pink t-shirt in his hand. "This is a women's medium."

"So it'll stretch a little. I'm sure Hilda won't mind," Sylvain grins.

His mischievousness is infectious, even for a fellow rascal. An idea strikes Claude in an instant.

"How about this. I'll sit up there, and you try to knock me down," he offers.

"You know that isn't gonna happen." Sylvain had nearly clocked the poor man running the ring toss earlier with an impressively awful throw.

"Yeah, but watching you miss is half the fun," Claude replies cheekily, making Sylvain puff up with faux indignation.

"Okay, _now_ it's gonna happen."

\---

Even Sylvain seems caught by surprise when he manages to nail the target on his second pitch, and Claude only hears his loud, celebratory whoop for all of a second before he hits the water.

\---

" _There_ you guys are! Claude! I've texted you like a dozen—" Hilda balks when she sees him sporting an eye-searing shirt that's obviously too small for him, topped with a wild mop of damp locks. His braid had survived the ordeal at least, though it continues to drip steadily like a ceiling leak. His lightweight joggers are completely drenched, small puddles trailing him wherever he goes. (In retrospect, he could've taken off his own shirt before getting onto the tank platform, but he'd genuinely thought Sylvain would biff his throws.)

"—What are you wearing?" Hilda finishes.

"It was supposed to be for you," Claude says with a shrug. Sylvain nods supportively beside him, still holding Sir Dorte (along with Claude's sunglasses and headband while the sun gradually dries him off), and Hilda levels them both with a suspicious squint.

"Aww thanks, but you can keep it! Anyway..." she trails off, expression shifting as she turns to Marianne beside her, who looks even more downcast than usual. Marianne doesn't look up as she speaks.

"I-I'm not feeling very well. I was thinking of going back early...."

Sylvain immediately steps over to check on her, while Hilda pulls Claude aside.

"I can't just let her go back by herself," she says, looking genuinely apologetic. "I'll make it up to you later, okay? I'm really sorry."

"No worries," Claude assures her, silently surprised to discover that he actually feels a little disappointed the day is being cut short, when he hadn't really been looking forward to it in the first place.

He glances over to see Sylvain talking quietly with Marianne, who is now hugging the venerable Sir Dorte tight to her chest. He must be doing a great job of consoling her, because she suddenly lights up with a rare smile, when she'd looked to be on the verge of tears just earlier.

...Claude had admittedly wondered more than once what had convinced Marianne to accept the invitation from Sylvain in the first place. She was shy, and her social anxiety often created a personal distance quite difficult to cross. She may be occasionally clumsy, but she was far from _mindless_ , and was prone to avoid anyone who wandered too aggressively into her space. (Or, she pushed them away.)

Sylvain catches Claude watching, and smiles, waving him and Hilda over. Claude finds himself smiling back.

\---

"It's a bummer," Sylvain says over a basket of french fries, once they've sent the girls off on the shuttle.

"We didn't even make it to any of the rides," Claude agrees, to which Sylvain gives him a questioning look.

"You know, the park's still open, and we've still got wristbands."

Claude does know, and he's considered it. (He could've left on the same bus as Hilda, Marianne, and Sir Dorte.) But he'd stayed behind to grab a late lunch instead, because he'd been genuinely starving and the thought of a half-hour commute on an empty stomach wasn't at all appealing.

...And because he might actually enjoy the company here. But Claude's never been one to overstay his welcome, and he assumes Sylvain isn't exactly eager to spend any more time with him now that his initial incentive has gone home.

"I should probably get back and cram. Big test on Monday."

"Oh, okay," Sylvain says, and Claude isn't sure if he's imagining it, but he seems to deflate a little. "Next shuttle should be here in 10 minutes. I'll wait with you."

"...Are you gonna stick around by yourself?" Claude asks, genuinely curious.

"Would you pity me if I said I'm pretty used to it?" Sylvain says, smiling way too casually as he pops another french fry into his mouth. Claude doesn't know what that's supposed to mean, and gets the feeling he probably shouldn't pry. So he refrains—for now.

"I dunno, but I might offer to keep you company for another hour or so," Claude says, and takes a sip of his carbonated beverage.

"Great!" Sylvain beams, and once again, Claude is compelled to grin back.

\---

He ends up staying until park kicks them both out. He even lets Sylvain cajole him onto the Ferris wheel somewhere in between the montage of roller coasters and themed rides, though it quickly devolves into a game of "I Spy" as they're lofted above the crowds.

Claude later drags him into the House of Mirrors in playful retaliation, which Sylvain had adamantly avoided all day.

"No way."

"Really? I thought a confident guy like you would enjoy looking at himself," Claude had teased.

"If you're calling me handsome, thanks, I am. But I honestly hate that place." Sylvain had shoved his hands into his pockets again, somewhat resembling a petulant child.

"Are you gonna say why?" Claude had prodded, too curious to be careful.

"Not on a first date," he had laughed it off, and Claude had inwardly flustered despite Sylvain's joking tone, before hastily taking off ahead.

"C'mon, Gautier. It's now or never."

\---

By the time they emerge from the other side of the building, the sun has completely winked out of the horizon, though the night stays balmy and warm. Even so, Claude's glad the afternoon had baked the water right out of his clothes. (His hair is a tragedy, however.)

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he turns to ask Sylvain, who looks especially pale under the evening lighting.

"It was awful!" Sylvain reassures him with mock cheer, despite having mutually goofed around earlier with their various, wacky reflections.

Again, Claude isn't sure whether to press for details or to leave them be, but his companion seems to recover quickly enough, back to his chatty self in no more than a few blinks.

"One last ride? I need a palate cleanser."

Claude laughs and nods. "Sure. One last ride."

\---

They go to the merry-go-round, Sylvain picking out a black warhorse while Claude seats himself on a white wyvern adjacent to it. They talk about everything and nothing as the world spins around them, and all the while Claude wonders how someone can be so completely open while simultaneously holding everything at arm's length. He wonders if he'll ever find out _why_ that is.

In the meantime, fireworks bloom across the dark canopy of the sky above them.

\---

Next thing Claude knows, he's being gently woken when they reach their stop. They disembark from the shuttle, and Sylvain stretches his arms over his head, yawning ferociously before dropping them back to his sides. Claude suddenly isn't sure where to go from here, but the other boy chimes in first.

"Do you know if Marianne's feeling any better?"

Claude blinks, and nods. "Yeah, Hilda says she's in bed resting now."

He wonders if Sylvain might ask more questions, but if he'd picked up on Hilda's suspicious behavior earlier, he doesn't make any indication of it. Claude observes as Sylvain scratches the back of his neck, cheeks oddly dark.

"That's good. ...Hey, thanks for today."

"Thanks yourself," he returns, feeling oddly warm.

"Heh," Sylvain fidgets some more, rubbing at his nose. "I honestly had no idea who Hilda was trying to set me up with, but I really had a lot of fun."

 _That_ gets Claude's eyebrows to shoot up in an instant, and his confusion must be palpable to Sylvain, whose smile falters.

"I thought—" Claude attempts, mind tumbling so hard it's probably bruising. "—Didn't you invite Marianne out today?"

As soon as the words leave Claude's mouth, it dawns on him just what Sylvain is about to confirm.

"Huh? No, that was Hilda's idea, she thought maybe the four of us—" Sylvain abruptly stops speaking as he puzzles out the rest for himself, the flush on his face creeping to his ears and down his neck. Claude's face must be burning up too, because his brain seems to be melting inside his skull, ready to dribble out his ears.

"I'll talk to Hilda tomorrow," Claude says, slowly.

"Same," Sylvain agrees, not looking his way.

\---

After Claude has retreated to the relative safety of his dorm room, he sends Hilda a sternly-worded text, which he's sure she'll conveniently ignore until they see each other again in person. (He's never been more mortified in his life, and he'd be genuinely irritated at his best friend were he not deeply impressed at how thoroughly she'd played the both of them.)

What's worse is he doesn't know what to make of _Sylvain_ , who had just spent some 12 hours actively trying to charm Claude, who had zero intention of being charmed.

 _And who had been charmed anyway,_ he belatedly realizes as he's scrolling through the pictures on his phone hoping for a glimpse of red hair. ...He'd been so absorbed with their "date" he'd completely failed to take any of his own, the only photographic record of their excursion being the selfie Hilda had sent to the group chat she'd set up before taking Marianne back.

—The group chat which does indeed contain Sylvain's number. Which Claude briefly glimpses at, before shutting off his phone altogether with a quiet, self-pitying groan.

\---

To further add insult to injury, he dreams of coffee and pistachio flavored kisses that night.

\---

"Don't worry, I warned him you'd be _real_ tough to win over," Hilda giggles. "I had to make sure he gave his all, you know? Only the best suitors for my dear Claude."

Claude had invited himself over as soon as he'd become functional after waking up, and accepts a conciliatory mug of coffee from her with a frown.

"When did I ever say I was looking for someone?"

"Oh come on, he's a good guy! And he's totally got it bad for you. You should've seen the texts he sent me while you were together."

Claude tries not to look _distinctly interested_ in what exactly Sylvain might've said about him, but Hilda is perfectly aware he's dying to know.

She pulls out her phone, fingers darting across the screen in a blur, and flips the device around so Claude can see a picture of himself out cold next to Sylvain. (His head had drifted unmistakably onto Sylvain's shoulder, though Claude has no recollection of when it had happened.) It's captioned with two emojis:

😊😴

Hilda pinches to zoom in on what has to be a puddle of drool Claude had left behind on Sylvain's shirt, and Claude nearly spits out his coffee, grabbing for her phone and missing.

"Geeze!" Hilda cackles, enjoying her tyranny far too much for Claude's liking. "I'll send you a copy! ...So I take it you wanna see more?"

"No," Claude grouses, putting his head down and fervently wishing to be acquainted with the cruel world no longer.

...He can feel Hilda rolling her eyes at him, and looks up again.

"...Yes."

\---

Sylvain had apparently documented just about the entire day at Hilda's request, though Hilda insists he would've done so anyway even if she hadn't asked. There's pictures of Claude with cotton candy, elephant ears and corn dogs, mascots, signposts and silly memorabilia from the gift shop.

"What am I, a five-year-old?" Claude snickers, to which Hilda smiles coyly.

"You said you hadn't been to one of these parks before, so _yeah,_ essentially."

"...Guess so. But I'm kinda sad you weren't there for it," Claude sighs, swiping to a markedly pink selfie she'd taken somewhere in between Sylvain's periodic updates.

"Me too," Hilda replies sincerely, slinging an arm around his shoulder and giving a heartfelt squeeze. "But I think you two had a better time without us anyway."

She nudges the album to the next entry, which happens to be a video clip of Claude yelping as he gets dropped into a tank of cold water.

\---

She doesn't actually show Claude any of Sylvain's texts. It wouldn't be fair, she'd explained. He'd simply have to speak to Sylvain himself to find out, and that opportunity presents itself much more immediately than Claude expects.

Hilda gets ready to check up on Marianne, and somehow manages to get her heels on right as there's a knock at the door. Claude already _knows_ who it is, and his stomach somersaults most uncomfortably below the sudden clench in his chest.

"Sylvain!" 

_Of course it's Sylvain._

"You made it!" Hilda chirrups. "I gotta jet, but you two take your time. Just lock the door whenever you leave."

She takes off down the hallway before her second guest has a chance to say anything. Sylvain then looks to Claude, and they're both so utterly helpless in their mutual surprise that they start laughing uncontrollably.

"...Would you feel sorry for me... if I said I'm pretty used to it?" Claude says, still trying to catch his breath as he invites him inside.

"Yeah, _I really would,_ " Sylvain answers, smiling so brightly it hurts a little to look at.

\---

Hilda still owes Claude a fancy dinner, but he thinks he might just call it even for now.

**Author's Note:**

> !! SKIP THIS IF YOU DON'T WANNA DEAL WITH SYLVAIN'S TRAUMA !!
> 
> To nobody's surprise, Miklan abandoned Sylvain at the amusement park several times when they were kids, and one time terrorized him through the House of Mirrors.
> 
> Thanks for reading! C:


End file.
